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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27402286">Blue Sky On Standby</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonrise31/pseuds/moonrise31'>moonrise31</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Oh My Girl (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, heavily inspired by the bon voyage mv</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:14:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,006</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27402286</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonrise31/pseuds/moonrise31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“I’m sorry,” says Mihyun once more, keeping her eyes resolutely on the celestial pinpricks bearing witness to their slow and methodical healing. “Not for dropping everything and leaving it all behind, but --” She swallows, and Shiah wonders how many of the words meant just for her will never taste the thrill of existence. “But I’m sorry for not telling you. And for making you into something to run away from, when you will always be someone worth keeping.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kim Mihyun | Mimi/Yoo Shiah | YooA</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Blue Sky On Standby</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/xylomylo/gifts">xylomylo</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>happy birthday, kelly!! thanks for sticking around all this time, even after discovering that my entire personality revolves only around lab and kpop. the next time we meet up, let's steal some cats together. until then: eat good food, stan loona, and be happy. i will always be your number one fan :D</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Halfway into their two-hour drive, Shiah begins to wonder whether she should have accepted this modeling job.</p><p>She supposes that Hyojung hadn’t really given her much choice either way; apparently Kim Jiho is an old friend, and Shiah does owe Hyojung much more than a comparatively small favor like this one. And considering Hyojung’s knack for finding acquaintances of all shapes and sorts -- as should be expected from a manager with a personality so bubbly and unapologetic -- perhaps Shiah should have already anticipated the kinds of characters she was signing herself up to work with for the rest of the week.</p><p>She’d barely caught the names in the flurry of introductions before they’d boarded the airplane in Seoul, but managed to pry them from Hyojung during the short flight to Jeju. Bae Yubin is the van driver and Choi Yewon is buckled into the passenger seat -- Jiho’s lights crew and stylist, respectively. Shiah and Hyojung have claimed the middle row, and Jiho herself is settled in the back to keep a watchful eye and steady hand on her state-of-the-art piles of photoshoot equipment.</p><p>As the driver, Yubin immediately establishes ownership over the musical controls, which leads to Yewon dutifully manning the playlist exactly as ordered until she dozes off fifteen minutes later. The songs that continue to play are mostly older -- hits that Shiah had grown up with -- and offer a pleasant soundtrack for the view through the windows as it blurs from the passing concrete buildings surrounding the island airport to the lush fields and forest sprouting beyond the outskirts of the city.</p><p>But an hour or so later, the flat and peaceful countryside has given way to a rocky, unpaved road that their rented van struggles to navigate. Yubin does her best to avoid the larger bumps and potholes, but Jiho still yells after a particularly hard jolt shakes her precious cargo. “Are you watching where you’re going?” </p><p>Shiah resists the urge to glance back, not wanting to add fuel to the fire. Beside her, Hyojung seems blissfully immersed in a mobile game. “I’m watching,” Yubin throws back, and to her credit does step on the brakes upon spotting a particularly deep dip up ahead. The van takes a noticeable dive downwards as she inches it into the depression, and she has to add a bit of gas to push them up again. “Next time you want to do a photoshoot, don’t place it in the middle of nowhere.”</p><p>“It’s the middle of Jeju, actually,” Jiho retorts. But besides the occasional yelp, she makes no other comment for the rest of the bumpy journey.</p><p>The sun has set by the time the twinkling lights of their destination emerge ahead of them. The road meandering through the small town is much smoother, and Yubin soon pulls into the parking lot of what looks to be a small restaurant. Yewon jerks awake as soon as the van stops, but Shiah is already halfway out the door, desperate for a chance to stretch her legs.</p><p>Hyojung hops out behind her, beaming at the neon sign above the restaurant door. “This is so exciting! It’s been ages since I was last here.”</p><p>Shiah glances back at her, and then pulls her aside so that Jiho can also exit the van. “You’ve been here before?”</p><p>Hyojung hums as she nods. “Come on, she’s keeping it open just for us.”</p><p>Shiah follows Hyojung into the restaurant, the bell above the door tinkling as the rest of them file in. The space is larger than Shiah had expected, the mellow lighting softening the edges of the tables and chairs arranged neatly across the dark wooden floor. A long counter stretches along the back of the room, and a window offers a look into the kitchen behind it. The woman at the register immediately brightens when she spots Hyojung.</p><p>“Unnie, Jiho!” She rounds the counter and meets Hyojung with a warm hug. “You made it.” She waves Jiho over too, pulling her into the huddle. “How was the drive?”</p><p>Jiho huffs, but offers no other input. So Hyojung says, “Fun!” </p><p>Introductions are quickly made; Shiah learns that the restaurant owner is Seunghee, and that the three friends had gone to university together. Seunghee sits them down at one of the larger tables, but Hyojung follows her into the kitchen to help warm up dinner. </p><p>Shiah would have been happy with just plain rice at this point, but the food Seunghee sets in front of them is a thousand times better. They’re halfway through the meal when the bell above the door rings again.</p><p>“I didn’t know you were open this late, unnie.”</p><p>Shiah doesn’t turn around, too focused on scraping up the last bits of meat from her bowl. Seunghee stands up, putting her hands on her hips. “That’s because I’m closed, Mihyun. This is for VIPs only.” </p><p>Mihyun sighs, her footsteps steadily approaching. “And it seems like it was just yesterday when I was your favorite.”</p><p>“Favorites can change.” Seunghee pulls up an extra chair to the end of the table just to Shiah’s left. “Here, sit. There’s plenty left if you want some.”</p><p>“Thanks,” Mihyun says as she takes her seat. Shiah chooses that moment to look up and make eye contact.</p><p>“Do you two know each other?” Yubin asks after a pregnant silence, which is when Shiah realizes that they have been staring at each other for a second too long. </p><p>Shiah manages to find her voice again. “We’ve met before.” She gives a quick smile, more for the rest of the table than for the girl she hasn’t seen since she was a teenager. “We used to work together.” </p><p>“It’s been a while,” says Mihyun, finally. She raises a hand to vaguely gesture at her own hair. “The red looks nice.”</p><p>“Yours, too,” Shiah says back, the yellow lighting making it hard to tell whether Mihyun’s is silver, or something softer like pink or lilac. Mihyun gives a stilted chuckle as she looks away. Shiah only flashes another smile -- because there is too much to talk about otherwise, and she can already see Mihyun shriveling into herself. </p><p>Then Hyojung -- great, blessed Hyojung -- leans back and stretches her arms upwards, yawning in the most exaggerated fashion she’s capable of. “I’m beat, and we shouldn’t keep Seunghee too long. Should we head to the inn?”</p><p>Jiho agrees easily enough, and the five of them say their goodbyes. Shiah is the last one to stand, and she taps Mihyun lightly on the shoulder. “It was good to see you.”</p><p>Mihyun doesn’t flinch away like Shiah was afraid she would, but her eyes widen as she looks up. Then she clears her throat, and nods. “It’s good to see you, too.”</p><p>The inn is just down the road, so the drive is short and quiet. As soon as she steps into the room she’s sharing with Hyojung, Shiah makes a beeline for the bed by the window. She falls back onto it, so that all of the breath that she has been holding is at last knocked out of her.</p><p>“Are you alright?” Hyojung asks, settling their luggage along the wall next to the television. </p><p>“I will be,” says Shiah, and Hyojung leaves it at that.</p><p>-</p><p>The next morning after breakfast, Yewon brings Shiah to the other room to take her measurements. Jiho sits on one of the beds and watches, while Yubin cycles through the ten cable channels available. Hyojung has decided that Shiah will be in good hands and has wandered off, probably in the direction of Seunghee’s restaurant. </p><p>Shiah watches as Yewon flits around her, precisely positioning her limbs before aligning them with her tape measure. She calls out numbers that Shiah is used to hearing, and Yubin scribbles them all down on the notepad sitting beside her. Yewon doesn’t even leave Shiah’s head unexamined, wrapping the tape measure around her skull and holding one end of it at her crown before letting it drop down past the nape of Shiah’s neck.</p><p>“Finished,” Yewon says not ten minutes later. She grins, her eyes curving softly, and Shiah wonders why Yewon has chosen to stay behind the camera lens when she could do just as well staring into it. “You’ve made it easy for me, unnie. There’s not much to adjust from what we’ve already done.” </p><p>“Great.” Jiho claps her hands together. “Then we can get started tomorrow.”</p><p>Shiah blinks at her. “Tomorrow? What are we doing for the rest of today, then?”</p><p>Jiho shrugs. “Whatever you want. Go into town or explore the forest, whatever you feel like. Take the day to let the environment sink in properly before we start working in it.” </p><p>Her tone suggests that Shiah, being an experienced model, should have already known this. But Shiah catches Yubin rolling her eyes, and figures that this latest instruction is as much a part of Jiho’s mildly eccentric creative process as hugging her equipment in the backseat of a van is. </p><p>The morning sun greets Shiah warmly when she steps out of the inn, unobscured by the lingering white clouds floating above. She spends the next few hours wandering from one end of the town to the other; it’s as small as she’d expected, consisting mostly of shops lining either side of the main street Seunghee’s restaurant also sits on. But she likes it: the air muted but pleasantly so, and undisturbed by the scuffing of her sandals against the sidewalk. It’s the feeling of strolling inside a bubble, impervious to the outside world constantly trying to press in around them. </p><p>Shiah passes by shop after shop, but mostly stays outside and browses the window displays until she gets to the end of the road. Here, a CD store sits; for reasons unknown, it draws her in, and Shiah doesn’t even pause before she pulls open the door and steps inside.</p><p>The shop is cool, but not enough to raise goosebumps on her bare arms. The large windows in the storefront allow plenty of late afternoon light inside, even in the back of the room -- which is how Shiah sees the surprise bloom across Mihyun’s face after she recognizes who has just entered.</p><p>“I’m not stalking you, I promise,” is something Shiah feels obligated to say. And it turns out to be the right thing, because Mihyun’s mouth curls into something like a smile. Shiah tucks her hands into the pockets of her shorts. “Should I leave?”</p><p>“No, it’s alright.” Mihyun stays behind the counter, but leans forward to rest her elbows on top of it and lace her fingers together. “You might find something you like, and I’d never turn down a sale.”</p><p>Tentative banter is certainly a step up from the night before; Shiah’s smile comes more naturally, and she steps forward to sift through the rows and rows of CD bins.</p><p>Mihyun’s stock covers an impressive range of genres, and Shiah finds herself seriously browsing the collection for something to buy. Eventually, she reaches the row closest to the counter, and her hand stills at a familiar album cover.</p><p>“I’ve had those in stock ever since I opened this shop,” says Mihyun. She’s made her way around to the front of the counter now, hands gripping the edge as she leans back against it. “I wanted to see if anyone would buy our EP.”</p><p>Shiah holds the CD in one hand, the plastic wrapping crinkling slightly as she runs her thumb across the name on the front. “Did they?”</p><p>“In all these years,” Mihyun says with a fond laugh, “only one did.”</p><p>Shiah finds herself laughing, too -- but for the first time in a decade, her throat hurts a little at the thought. She swallows to push the wistfulness aside, away from her mind and her heart, and rounds the bins to approach the counter. “Make that two, then.”</p><p>When she stops, they’re standing face to face. Shiah holds their first and only album out -- an invitation to begin mending bridges.</p><p>Mihyun glances down, but Shiah knows that she’s reading the album title and hoping it will spell out forgiveness. “I know this is too long overdue, but -- I’m sorry.”</p><p>Shiah clicks her tongue, raising the CD to tap it against Mihyun’s bowed head. “There’s nothing to be sorry for.”</p><p>Mihyun hesitates -- as if she, too, hears the little white lie stinging Shiah’s tongue. But then Mihyun takes the CD, shooting Shiah another brief smile before turning to ring up her purchase. “I’m sorry, anyway. I shouldn’t have left like that.”</p><p>Mihyun slips the CD into a thin paper bag, and her fingers brush Shiah’s as she trades the purchase for the bills Shiah offers her. Shiah tucks their past into her purse, her lips tilting into a small smirk. “Well, we’re here, now.”</p><p>“We are,” Mihyun agrees. She returns Shiah’s wave goodbye, and it’s only then that Shiah notices that the lights in the store have been switched on for a while. By the time she steps outside once more, the sun has already set below the horizon, its afterglow coloring the clouds in nostalgic streaks of another day passed.</p><p>-</p><p>They set out for the surrounding forest early the next morning. Jeju’s trees are tall and massive, looming impressively above Shiah’s head as Yewon fusses over the wrinkles in her pant legs and the splash of freckles she dots onto Shiah’s face. </p><p>Yubin has already set up the lights in Jiho’s clearing of choice, and stands ready with a silvery reflector board. Shiah spends the next couple of hours peeking around tree trunks or peering through leafy branches. Jiho’s rapidfire commands hardly give her time to process what’s being asked of her, but Hyojung is perpetually beaming from her spot standing by the hood of the car, and the echoing silence -- broken only by the faintest birdsong floating far above them -- makes Shiah fond of this photoshoot and its quaintness.</p><p>They finish up and drive closer to the coast, stopping by a large grassy field liberally decorated with sunflowers. Appropriately, Yewon presents Shiah with a cheerful yellow dress, and arranges a few headbands into Shiah’s hair -- each lined with jewels that catch the late morning light in every facet. The day ends with Jiho taking a last set of photos of Shiah dancing near the rising ocean tide, each of her rapidly disappearing footprints along the shoreline placed with a precision Shiah has come to expect of Hyojung’s longtime friend.</p><p>On the drive back into town, Jiho says, “Something’s missing.”</p><p>Yubin sighs so loudly that Shiah can hear it even from the row of seats behind. “Stop trying to make decisions from that tiny viewfinder. You can look at them on the laptop screen when we get to the inn.”</p><p>Yewon twists in the passenger seat so she can glance back at Jiho. “What do you think is off, unnie?”</p><p>Jiho hums, her frown thoughtful as she continues to click through the photos she’s taken. “I can’t really tell, yet.”</p><p>“We still have a few days,” Shiah says lightly. “We can’t expect to get everything right the first time.”</p><p>Jiho looks up and shoots Shiah a brief smile before saying, “You picked a good one, Hyojung-unnie.”</p><p>Hyojung flips her hair over one shoulder, but the effect is somewhat dampened by the bulk of it smacking prematurely against the back of her seat. “Don’t I always?”</p><p>Later that night, Shiah dreams. She’s back in the forest, standing on the single paved road that winds through it. Mere meters away from her is a large white wolf, tall enough for the tips of its ears to brush against the treetops. She holds her breath, watching as the wolf slowly dips its great head to blink at her with quicksilver eyes. </p><p>Nervousness is not new to Shiah by any means, and neither is the prickling fear that rushes up her spine as she stares back. Still, her limbs freeze not in terror, but in acknowledgement of the inexplicable awe she carries for this enormous beast who could swallow her in a single bite -- and yet does nothing more than wait for her first move.</p><p>When Shiah wakes up, she is unable to fall back asleep. </p><p>She fruitlessly tosses and turns, unable to shake out of her mind how the wolf and its stare resonate with the hovering weight in her heart that now accompanies any thoughts of Mihyun, earnestly urging Shiah to forget what has been in favor of what can be. After an hour or so, she admits defeat and slips out from under her covers. Hyojung remains undisturbed in the other bed, and doesn’t so much as twitch at the rustle of Shiah’s jacket, or when Shiah finally shuffles past and closes the door with the softest click she can manage.</p><p>The night air is cool and fresh, and Shiah wanders down the town’s main street without thinking too much about where she is headed. Still, she’s not too surprised at herself when she ends up at Mihyun’s CD store. The door is locked and the windows are shuttered, but she rounds the back because she can see some wildflowers patchily sprouting in the dirt that otherwise surrounds the building.</p><p>She’s greeted by a gentle slope, and despite the darkness she can tell that the grass that blankets it is lush and green. The shallow hill flattens at the treeline of the forest, but what finally gives her pause is the person who is already sitting on the slope as if she has been waiting, all this time.</p><p>“Oh,” says Mihyun when she hears Shiah’s shuffling come to a stop. She turns and smiles up at her. “It’s late.”</p><p>Shiah shrugs. “What are you doing out here?”</p><p>Mihyun faces forward once more. “There’s not much of a moon tonight, so you can see the stars.” And then she pats the grass next to her, as if they’ve arrived at the point where they can sit together and not feel like the entire world is collectively holding its breath.</p><p>Shiah settles down, careful to not let their knees brush as she, too, crosses her legs. Mihyun already seems fully immersed in tracing constellations and comprehending galaxies, but Shiah has never been able to hold half as much patience. “Do you do this a lot now? Stargazing?”</p><p>“Not so much, lately,” Mihyun says. “I came out here a lot when I first moved here, and then when I opened the store.”</p><p>“I see,” says Shiah. She pulls her legs in, hugging her knees to her chest as she looks up again -- because having the stars glaze her eyes over is preferable to long-gone, salt-tinged feelings threatening to do the same. “I can leave,” she offers again, in more ways than one.</p><p>“Don’t,” Mihyun says quickly, and Shiah can see that it startles her, too. But the word has already escaped, so Mihyun soldiers on, bravely like always. “You can stay.”</p><p>Shiah clears her throat, but it does little to hide the smile pulling at her lips. “Alright. I’ll only be here for a few more days, anyway.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” says Mihyun once more, keeping her eyes resolutely on the celestial pinpricks bearing witness to their slow and methodical healing. “Not for dropping everything and leaving it all behind, but --” She swallows, and Shiah wonders how many of the words meant just for her will never taste the thrill of existence. “But I’m sorry for not telling you. And for making you into something to run away from, when you will always be someone worth keeping.”</p><p>The admission buzzes loudly in Shiah’s ears, but she remains quiet. She turns, eager to look at and remember better, now, the curve of Mihyun’s jaw and how her lilac hair falls silvery down her back in the starlight. “Wouldn’t it be funny,” Shiah says, “if you came back to Seoul after the photoshoot, and we became a duo again?”</p><p>“Yeah, that would be funny,” Mihyun laughs, and Shiah agrees that she is simply entertaining the impossible. </p><p>“Checkmate,” Shiah muses, their label curling her tongue for the first time in years. “We meant it to refer to everyone else.”</p><p>“Hey.” Mihyun releases a hesitant chuckle, and then glances at her. “It was a great name.”</p><p>This time, Shiah lets Mihyun see her smile. “Maybe back then. But now -- you’re happy now, right?”</p><p>Mihyun hums, returning her stare to the stars. “I think so.”</p><p>“Then you’re right,” says Shiah, eyelids suddenly heavy as she feels her heart lighten. “It really was a great name.”</p><p>Mihyun scoffs, the sound of it curving upward like her smile. And Shiah doesn’t remember shifting closer, or dozing off with her head on Mihyun’s shoulder. But just before sunrise, Mihyun nudges her awake and walks her back to the inn to get some rest in a real bed. </p><p>When she wakes up again a few hours later, the warmth pressed to her cheek still lingers.</p><p>-</p><p>“Accessories,” Jiho declares at breakfast. “That’s what we’re missing.”</p><p>“Okay,” Yewon says brightly, while Yubin groans and pretends to be annoyed about what she refers to as “the suitcase of horrors”.</p><p>The props Yewon presents Shiah with once they’re at the forest photoshoot site are not nearly as bad as Yubin made them out to be -- although the antlers that Yewon carefully places on Shiah’s head are one of the items furthest from what she’d been imagining.</p><p>Jiho has Shiah go through the same motions as the day before, popping up from behind fallen tree trunks and standing in the light so that the sun casts the antlers in shadow against the mossy forest floor. Her neck begins to ache from the strain, but Shiah barely notices as the hours pass, too concerned with trying to embody the “forest spirit” Jiho insists on while also attempting to ignore the deja vu lurking among the trees. </p><p>It doesn’t work. A glimpse of quicksilver constantly lurks just beyond her vision, a flash of a falling star daring her to dream of something grander than leaving this island with an old CD and a farewell that might as well be a forfeit. </p><p>In the field of sunflowers, Shiah now dons a wig, the edges of the pixie cut barely brushing past her ears. And once they reach the ocean, Yubin scouts out a rocky crevice in the nearby cliffs, and Yewon produces a pair of translucent fairy wings for Shiah to shrug on like she would a backpack.</p><p>They shoot until well past sunset, which might explain why Yubin almost runs them off the road on the way back when Jiho announces that something is still missing. </p><p>“Unnie!” Yewon yelps, and Yubin immediately redirects the van to its proper path.</p><p>“Sorry,” Yubin murmurs. “But you know that we leave tomorrow night, right? It’ll be hard to do much more than some touch-ups.”</p><p>Hyojung glances over at Shiah, reaching over to squeeze her hand in sympathy. But Shiah isn’t that put off by the prospect of having another full day tomorrow before catching their redeye back to Seoul, if only because she hasn’t been able to think much beyond her stomach gurgling for the past few hours. </p><p>By some divine providence -- otherwise known as Hyojung calling ahead -- the lights in Seunghee’s restaurant are still on when Yubin pulls into the parking lot. Complaints against Jiho are temporarily set aside as the five of them dig into the meal Seunghee has kept warm -- which is why Shiah doesn’t notice Mihyun sitting at the counter until they’re almost finished eating.</p><p>“She’s been waiting since closing time,” Seunghee whispers in Shiah’s ear as she passes by, complete with her tongue in cheek and an exaggerated wink that doesn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the table. </p><p>“Oh,” is all Shiah says, and Seunghee stops in her tracks to let out a long sigh before disappearing into the kitchen. </p><p>Jiho and her crew are ready to return to the inn, and Hyojung pats Shiah’s shoulder before she leaves with them. “If you’re going to be staying out late, just text me.”</p><p>Before Shiah can pretend to not know what Hyojung is talking about, the restaurant door has already swung closed. Shiah looks back at the counter; Mihyun waves and offers a cautious smile. “Hey.”</p><p>Shiah stands still for another moment, and then walks over to slide onto the stool next to Mihyun’s. “Hi.”</p><p>Seunghee not-so-subtly slides a glass of water over to Shiah -- a perfect accompaniment to the half-full one sitting in front of Mihyun’s folded arms resting on the countertop -- and leaves the two of them bathed in the now familiar mellow light that Shiah thinks is perfect for weathering late nights and thunderstorms.</p><p>“Long day?” Mihyun finally asks. She traces her finger along the wall of her water glass, and the condensation wets her finger and leaves behind a droplet trail wherever she points.</p><p>“A little,” says Shiah, entranced in each stroke as if time will stop if she so much as blinks. “Jiho’s still not satisfied, so we’ll probably be shooting up until we have to leave tomorrow night.”</p><p>“Oh.” Mihyun stills, fingertip limply slipping off the glass. Then she takes a long sip of water before saying, “Tomorrow?”</p><p>“Yeah,” says Shiah. She slides off her stool and tucks her hands into her pockets. “So do you want to take me for a walk?”</p><p>“Uh, sure.” Mihyun blinks at her. “If you want.”</p><p>“One last departure tour,” says Shiah. She smirks as she tilts her chin in the direction of the kitchen. “And we shouldn’t make her stay for too much longer, anyway.”</p><p>Inconveniencing Seunghee seems to be what finally pushes Mihyun off of her own seat. She calls out a quick goodbye before leading Shiah to the door, and holds it open while Shiah steps into the freedom of a late night in a small island town.</p><p>Shiah has pretty much seen all there is to see already, of course. But Mihyun takes her up and down the street anyway, filling Shiah’s head with the sound of her voice and the movement of her hand tucking some hair behind her ear as she tells funny little stories about each shop they pass. There’s the florist who owns a cat that always leaves dead birds as presents on several specially selected doorsteps, and a few stores down is the poor cobbler who had been so overwhelmed with new shoe orders during the wettest rainy season in recent memory that he’d personally taught some of the older townspeople how to purchase products over the internet. </p><p>It’s not until Shiah’s phone buzzes with Hyojung’s text that she realizes she should have checked in hours ago. But Mihyun is standing barely an arm’s length away, voice hoarse from making up for lost time and eyes looking determinedly at the stars instead of anyone else. </p><p>Shiah tells Hyojung not to wait up, and takes a step closer to Mihyun so that she knows to keep going.</p><p>Eventually, though, Mihyun notices the yawns Shiah has been hiding. “Should we head back?”</p><p>Shiah belatedly realizes that they’re standing in front of the CD store. She turns to Mihyun. “If you live around here, you don’t have to walk me all the way back to the inn.”</p><p>Mihyun clears her throat and shrugs. “You shouldn’t be walking around by yourself at this time.”</p><p>“Neither should you,” says Shiah. </p><p>“Okay,” Mihyun says. She crosses and then uncrosses her arms, before finally settling on a hopeful shrug. “Um, you could sleep over?”</p><p>Shiah finds out that Mihyun lives in the room above the CD store. She’s seen studio apartments that are larger, but this place is cozy and graciously dark when they slip under the covers ever so delicately, side by side on Mihyun’s bed. </p><p>Mihyun clears her throat, and Shiah thinks she might suggest something silly and self-preserving like putting pillows in between, or offering to sleep on the couch instead. But then Mihyun says, “I’m going to miss you.”</p><p>And Shiah knows that she means it.</p><p>“I always have,” Shiah admits into the sleepy, softened air enveloping the two of them. “Missed you, I mean.”</p><p>Shiah feels the mattress dip beside her as Mihyun shifts, and hears the soft thump of Mihyun’s hand falling onto the bed a moment later. Gingerly, Shiah reaches down, fingers skimming across Mihyun’s open palm before slipping into spaces they had filled once before, a lifetime ago.</p><p>They must fall asleep like this, Shiah thinks later. Because she wakes up with Mihyun still holding her hand despite the bright and early morning, instead of only under the fog of her wildest dreams. </p><p>-</p><p>Their peace is quickly shattered when Jiho comes knocking.</p><p>“There you are,” she says triumphantly when Shiah steps out from behind Mihyun, the two of them blinking blearily at her from behind Mihyun’s half-open door. “I’ve figured out what we’ve been missing.”</p><p>“For real, this time,” Yubin calls from somewhere in the stairwell that leads up to the living quarters.</p><p>“I have breakfast,” Hyojung adds, the echo of her voice suggesting a location even further away.</p><p>Mihyun gives Shiah a wry smile. “Drop by the restaurant before you leave, okay?”</p><p>“Okay,” Shiah barely manages to say before she’s dragged bodily out the door.</p><p>And then Jiho reaches back over to grab Mihyun’s sleeve. “You can come, too.” Something close to panic enters Mihyun’s eyes, but Shiah can only answer with a helpless shrug.</p><p>Shiah is in the middle of calculating how they’re going to fit everyone into the van when she’s greeted by Yewon already waiting in the street, the light stands set up and directed at the wall of Mihyun’s store. Yewon merely smiles at her and holds up the antlers. </p><p>Jiho is surprisingly less commanding today as she shuffles around Shiah, who is trying to look more like she’s leaning purposefully against the white brick and less like she’s definitely falling asleep. Then they spend the day wandering through town, waiting for Jiho to point at a random alleyway or a particularly enticing street lamp. Shiah changes behind the curtain of blankets that Hyojung and Yubin hold up for her while Yewon meticulously checks the outfits, even when they already form perfectly to Shiah’s familiar frame. </p><p>Meanwhile, Mihyun hovers on the periphery, standing by Hyojung or helping Yubin with the lighting. Shiah occasionally sneaks a glance at her and the tenderness glistening in her eyes, only to be interrupted by the flash of Jiho’s camera.</p><p>They take a last set of photos just before sunset, Shiah’s translucent fairy wings iridescent from the neon sign over Seunghee’s restaurant. She ends up drawing the curious gazes of a few patrons entering the establishment, but the extra scrutiny pales in the face of Jiho’s content smile as she examines each photo through the window of her tiny viewfinder.</p><p>The restaurant is filled with a pleasant hum as Seunghee sits them down at her largest table. Shiah finds herself at one end, directly across from Mihyun. Seunghee returns with water glasses, saving the two of theirs for last; she sets them somewhat deliberately on the tabletop before she whisks away towards Hyojung’s end to take her order.</p><p>It’s early on a Friday evening, so Shiah finally notices the noraebang machine set up in one corner of the restaurant. Someone is already belting an IU song at the top of their lungs, and the small disco ball hanging from the ceiling decorates the floor with circles of purple and green and pink.</p><p>Under the table, Mihyun’s foot nudges Shiah’s. “How much would you pay me to go up there and sing our debut song, right now?”</p><p>Shiah looks back at Mihyun, reading between the crinkles at the corners of her eyes. “It’s too bad that I left my CD at the inn.”</p><p>Mihyun tilts her head back a little as she laughs. “Who do you think bought the first copy?” And Shiah has to crack a smile at that, because Seunghee really is as warmhearted as her restaurant and its soft yellow lights. </p><p>Then Shiah leans forward, finally disclosing the words that have been misting her eyes since she found herself standing in a dream-heavy forest, searching for the telltale flash of something brave. “You can always come back to Seoul, you know.” Mihyun hesitates, but Shiah is ready for it. “CD stores make quite a bit in the big city, especially if you stock them right.”</p><p>Mihyun stares at Shiah for another second, then two, while Shiah thinks absentmindedly that the album tossed amongst the rest of her luggage will never make its way out of its plastic. And when Mihyun smiles, Shiah finally allows her heart to ache a little at the inevitability of leaving. “That’s good to know.”</p><p>“Give me your phone,” Shiah says suddenly, before she can think or regret. Mihyun is taken aback enough to hand it over without a word, the screen already unlocked. Shiah saves her own number and name in the contacts, and then slides the phone back across the table. “If you ever need it,” she offers.</p><p>Mihyun’s smile is wider, this time, and Shiah briefly sees the stars.</p><p>All too soon, Seunghee and Mihyun bid them farewell at the restaurant door; Shiah barely has time to process Mihyun’s hug before she’s wrapped in Seunghee’s. But it’s probably just as well, and when she looks back over her shoulder one last time, she knows the small wave that Mihyun raises her hand to give isn’t for anyone else.</p><p>The drive to the airport is quiet, Jiho completely passed out in the back while Yewon tries her best to keep Yubin from nodding off at the wheel. Shiah also dozes, despite the persistent glow of Hyojung’s phone screen glaring through her eyelids.</p><p>One flight back to Seoul and two weeks later, Shiah receives a preprint of Jiho’s magazine spread in her stack of morning mail. She sets her coffee down and immediately flips through it, her burning curiosity for Jiho’s grand vision causing her to almost tear the pages.</p><p>The first photo is by the ocean, printed opposite to the one she’d taken outside of Seunghee’s restaurant. The Shiah perched on the rocky shore and the Shiah under the restaurant sign are both hovering courtesy of their shimmering wings, one facing the other as they search for something they might never be able to see. The next two pages feature her pixie-cut wig and yellow sundress, the Shiah on the left running through the field of flowers towards the far edge of the page while the one on the right dashes away from her in mirrored fashion, this time past a row of streetlights and open storefronts. </p><p>At last, Shiah flips to the picture of her bearing the antler crown, stepping out from behind a tree trunk to stare towards the center crease. And when she takes in the final photo, Shiah lingers not on how she sits against the wall of Mihyun’s store, but on the shadow that stands out starkly against the whitewash directly to her right. Her antlered head is even tilted at a slight angle, gaze not aimed at the camera but at the source of the figure currently being cast beside her.</p><p>Shiah looks herself in the eyes, at the upward curve to her lips, and wonders if she has always been this transparent. Because the shadow is distinctly Mihyun-shaped, but Shiah also sees a manifestation of her own heart, shining in quiet quicksilver as it waits for her to be brave.</p><p>Her phone buzzes. She glances at the screen as it lights up with a text notification. The number is unknown, but the message reads like something more than a friend. So Shiah leaves the preprint open to its last pages, and picks up her phone to answer.</p><p>Its warm weight cradled in her palm reminds her that forgiveness can come sprinkled with starlight, and that starting again is not quite the same as starting over.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>follow xylomylo on ao3 and @xylomyloo on twitter; it'll make your day!!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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